"I do not wish to."
"She does not wish to," Song Mother repeated, forefinger and thumb holding the bridge on her nose as if it was all keeping her face - or sanity - together. "She is the oldest one here not yet a full Maoin, yet she does not wish to go."
"Sending the Maharani a fledgling is perhaps an insult," Song Father replied. "We have better qualified Maoin. Let us send them."
"Yes, Song Mother, I would be but a cruel joke for the Maharani." Song Mother gave the young woman a sharp look, and she decided that her wishes may best be brought about through silence.
"You know as well as I do that our others are busy. I know how important our client is, but the others are servicing people high in the Temple class. To take them from their duty would leave a mark on our reputation. And Nici has the training needed. And we cannot afford for her to find another House. She has the grace and skills required. She is beautiful and talented. She can do it... if she puts in the effort. And she realizes the importance of this client. She will suffice. She will not dishonor our House."
The last sentence was a warning, an order. Nici opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again when she saw the matching expressions of her Parents. it was decided.
"After all, you have always complained when we did not let you perform. Now is your chance."
But of all the clients in Thanatos... why not let me start out with someone less... Important?
Nici was excused, and left to prepare. What would it be like? It was not as if she had never had a client before. But never anyone powerful, never anyone that had the ability to lower the reputaion of the House if she did not do well. Why was this happening to her? Gritting her teeth, she sat still as her younger Siblings arranged her attire and make up, snapping at them whenever they made a mistake.
Despite everything, she was being very well behaved. Normally, she would sneek outside to avoid work or lessons, coming inside to steal a roll for a snack, perhaps, telling scary stories to the younger set when they were supposed to be studying. When told to do something she did not wish to, she would stamp her foot, toss her hair and purr in a voice that seemed not to be connected with her defiant actions, "I'm sorry, but I am unable to perform this action." Then, with a cat's grin, she run away in a manner not suiting a Maoin.
But now, it was time, and she was dignified. As she left the house, the fledgelings andattendants went to see her off. As the children called after her, begging for her to return with stories and the attendants wailing about how she'd grown, none could see that the Maoin that they were sending off like a bride or a soldier for war was having trouble keeping down her food, and her knees were knocking so hard, it was impressive that she kept her graceful walk.
When she at last arrived at the Maharani's abode, she could hardly feel the blood in her body. It was if her entire body had lost blood, so faint and pale was she. Yet she managed a smouldering smile for the guards, who seemed to be aware that she was expected as they let her in, and she was led to the Maharani's quarters. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself before flowing into the room like a dream, her hourglass figure clearly as nimble as a young bamboo, her elaborate hairstyle accentuating her fantastic (though, to her, unfamiliar) Maoin apparel. She took a deep bow before the Maharani and announced in a sultry purr, "I am Nici Machika, Maharani, and I will do my very best to please you. How will I best be of service?"
